Resolved

Photo: Pexels.com

“I do not run without a definite goal; I do not flail around like one beating the air.”—1 Corinthians 9:26, Amplified

It can be easy to talk yourself out of making resolutions for the new year, especially when research shows that many are broken after the first month anyway. Why bother? But when you’re walking in the adventure that is God’s kingdom, you quickly realize that He is all about resolve, intentionality and purpose when it comes to our destiny and our everyday lives…

“For we are His workmanship [His own master work, a work of art], created in Christ Jesus [reborn from above—spiritually transformed, renewed, ready to be used] for good works, which God prepared [for us] beforehand [taking paths which He set], so that we would walk in them [living the good life which He prearranged and made ready for us].”

—Ephesians 2:9-11, Amplified

Which means there is always one resolution truly worth pursuing, a resolve "to decide firmly on a course of action; a firm determination to do something"—getting to know God more and more so that our lives will walk more and more in paths that reflect His goodness and love.

Perfect? Like all other resolutions, this one will be broken within the first month, if not sooner. Potholes, misfires, and wanting do-overs along the way will be a given. But the difference between this resolve and all the other resolutions that people will make on January 1 is that a broken resolution in the hands of the Redeemer is not a failure. Because God’s great grip of grace, how He loves keeping His promise of making all things new, and how He loves continually singing “Perseverance!” over us from January to December, will trump every epic trip and stumble, every time.

In fact, some of the best resolutions we can make for a new year are not resolutions at all, but prayers—a reminder (and relief) that all the outcomes ahead will be in His hands, not ours:

“God, teach me lessons for living so I can stay the course;

Give me insight so I can do what You tell me—my whole life one long, obedient response.

Guide me down the road of Your commandments; I love traveling this freeway!

Give me a bent for Your words of wisdom, and not for piling up loot.

Divert my eyes from toys and trinkets; invigorate me on the pilgrim way.

Affirm Your promises to me—promises made to all who fear You.

Deflect the harsh words of my critics—but what You say is always good.

See how hungry I am for Your counsel;

Preserve my life through Your righteous ways.”

—Psalm 119-33-40, Message

For a new year, even just for today, so be it, Lord.

“Resolution One: I will live for God. Resolution Two: If no one else does, I still will.”—Jonathan Edwards

[ADAPTED FROM 12-28-14]

Lessons from a Deer Crossing

Photo: pexels.com

"As the deer pants longingly for the water brooks, So my soul pants longingly for You, O God."—Psalm 42:1, Amplified

It is amazing how often what we see everyday that seems routine and matter-of-fact can be a type and shadow of something eternal and essential. 

Like deer crossing signs on the highway. The message is loud and clear: slow down and pay attention.

But how do they know? How do they know that deer like to cross along this particular stretch of highway and not that one? Researchers at Penn State University learned that deer don't usually cross the highway randomly but use known crossing sites taught by those that have gone before them. “Deer didn’t just approach the closest fence section and then decide to cross. It wasn’t just chance that brought them to a particular place. They were seeking them out.”

Further, deer tend to cross the road for two primary reasons: they’re being chased or, depending on the season, they are in pursuit of relationship...

"...the report of His power spread even faster, and vast crowds came to hear Him preach and to be healed of their diseases. But Jesus often withdrew to the wilderness for prayer."

—Luke 5:15-16, NLT

...The root word of the place to which Jesus, and deer, often withdrew is “wild-deer-ness”—a place inhabited only by wild animals like deer, or simply any place where there are no people. No noise. No distractions.

We are never told in the Gospels exactly why Jesus went to the wilderness other than to pray, and that He did so as was His custom. For guidance on choosing disciples? For wisdom on where to minister next? To get away from the never ending pressing in of the crowd and to seek intimacy with His Father without distraction and noise? Probably yes, yes and yes. After all, He once said,  “I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself. He does only what he sees the Father doing. Whatever the Father does, the Son also does.”—John 5:19

The great and wonderful mystery of it all is that in one sense, because Jesus is God in the flesh, it would seem that He didn’t need to do any of those things. And yet in Love, He did so anyway, to leave an example for all of us who would follow in His footsteps...

“I am the vine, you are the branches—apart from Me,

you can do nothing.”—John 15:1

...Especially in this hectic month, when people and events and demands are pressing in on all sides, and on top of all the other craziness of the world and daily life, it is good—no, essential—to follow the deer and find that known crossing site of the deep woods, or the woodworking shop, or even a favorite chair in a quiet room, and make it our custom, too, to seek it out regularly.

And pray. And seek guidance and wisdom. And love. And exhale. And be still. And just be. And none of it to merely escape or live passively but to be refueled, like the deer at the brook, to go on in wonderful pursuit of Him, with all we've got.

It could be the greatest gift any of us receive (or re-open) this or any year.

"The pursuit of God is not a part-time, weekend exercise. If it is, chances are you will experience a part-time, weekend freedom. Abiding requires a kind of staying power. The pursuit is relentless. It hungers and thirsts. It pants as the deer after the mountain brook. It takes the kingdom by storm...The pursuit of God is a pursuit of passion. Indifference will not do. To abide in the Word is to hang on tenaciously. A weak grip will soon slip away. Discipleship requires staying power. We sign up for duration. We do not graduate until heaven." - R. C. Sproul

In the Moment

"Should I _____?"

"Wouldn't it be better if I had______?"

"Is _____ what I'm supposed to be doing, and is this it?"

"What if I try ______ over there instead?" 

It's actually a good thing to be asking most of these probing questions, of yourself and of God, as a sort of discipleship tune-up. Simply because it's easy to wander off course and realize you sometimes need a two-by-four awakening to realize you've been fixing your eyes on what really doesn't matter all that much after all. Like that thing you wished you'd never bought as soon as you walked out of the store...

"Find ecstasy in life; the mere sense of living is joy enough."

- Emily Dickinson

...Contentment may be about being satisfied with having just enough of just about anything, but maybe more importantly, it is not about "stuff" at all but about being satisfied with place and purpose — where we are in actual location, career, relationships, or in station of life at any given time. 

Because that is where God has us at the moment, and the greatest sense of contentment that I could ever know is that, no matter what, wherever I am, He is already there, and that is enough. 

Even here, even now...

“A devout life does bring wealth, but it’s the rich simplicity of being yourself before God. Since we entered the world penniless and will leave it penniless, if we have bread on the table and shoes on our feet, that’s enough … go after God, who piles on all the riches we could ever manage — do good, be rich in helping others, be extravagantly generous… build a treasury that will last, gaining life that is truly life.”

—1 Timothy 6: 6-8, 17-19, The Message

[ADAPTED FROM 6-5-16]

The Most Beautiful

“One thing I have asked of the Lord, and I will seek: That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord…”—Psalm 27:4

The sun came up this morning and, especially at the ocean, it is beautiful.

That photo of a distant land, that masterpiece of art—absolutely beautiful.

My mom was beautiful, on the outside and also how she lived her life.

Outward appearances and inner strength are our definitions of beauty.

But gazing at the beauty of the Lord?

How are you supposed to worship that kind of God?

And how can that be, anyway?

Even Isaiah says: “He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.”

But our God’s beauty is not skin-deep or even panoramically marvelous.

It is far more than being a good man (or mom) who taught and did good things.

The beauty that King David longed to gaze at, and to which all down through the ages have been invited

Is a definition from his culture that blows away all of our limited western definitions.

To the Hebrew...

God is beautiful because He is inventor, owner, Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary extraordinaire, and the One and only perfect living example of all of these:

Glory, strength, greatness, power, victory, majesty, praise, honor, excellence and holiness.

God is beautiful because He embodies all that is good.
Which means real worship of a beautiful God is unlike anything we can imagine.
And it was never meant to be boring,

Never meant for going through the motions,

Of standing up and sitting down and then going home.

But an invitation to gaze at, stand in awe of, shout a loud thanksgiving to, or be holy shock-and-awe still before

The most beautiful One who stands far and above all that we can see, take a photo of or imagine.

And to know that the whole world—even yours and mine— is in His hands, still.

And what could be more beautiful than that?

"There is no lapse in His character or inconsistency in His nature. Our God is everything He says He is… for now and all eternity." - Matt Redman

Now Available

“You have not chosen Me, but I have chosen you and I have appointed and placed and purposefully planted you, so that you would go and bear fruit and keep on bearing, and that your fruit will remain and be lasting, so that whatever you ask of the Father in My name, as My representative, He may give to you.”—John 15:16, Amplified

We say:

“This is broken, I need to fix this.”

“It’s not getting done and someone’s got to do it.”

“If you want a job done right, do it yourself."

God says:

“The LORD sat as King over the deluge;

The LORD still sits as King, and forever!

The LORD will give unyielding and impenetrable strength to His people;

The LORD will bless His people with peace.”

—Psalm 29:10-11 (Amplified)

Looks like “seize the day” has already been accomplished.

So now what do I do?

In the upside-down thinking of the Kingdom of God, sometimes, the most meaningful, down-in-the-dirt-and-sweaty, and powerful thing to be done is this:

Exchange ability for availability.

“… to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way [we] will lay up treasure for [ourselves] as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that [we] may take hold of the life that is truly life."—1 Timothy 6:18-19

“My availability to God’s call…is predicated on understanding that God doesn’t need any more messiahs. He sent One. The job is finished. We are not needed. I am not needed. Ah, but I’m wanted. That’s liberating, isn’t it? To not be needed but wanted?”—Jared C. Wilson, “The Imperfect Disciple” 

[Adapted from 11-2-14]

The Rest of the Story

“How precious it is, Lord, to realize that You are thinking about me constantly! I can’t even count how many times a day Your thoughts turn to me. And when I waken in the morning, You are still thinking of me!”—Psalm 139:17-18, Living Bible

Sometimes, an old song will come out of nowhere, and you remember every word of it and where you were when you sang it, and the (usually good) memories associated with it. But sometimes, "out of nowhere" is really meant for somewhere and in fact for right now and for you, and for a good and needed Word at just the right time.

For such a week as this, one like:

"The Lord thy God (echo, echo) in the midst of thee (echo, echo), is mighty, is mighty..."

Simple comfort food from the Book of Zephaniah. Fully nourishing. Blessed assurance. Right?

And yet, hardly fluff and Christian-lite. Because what made this "out of nowhere" just-in-time song so powerful is the rest of the story, and the story for our lives:

It was written in the midst of chaos...

"Yet God remains righteous in her midst, untouched by the evil. He stays at it, day after day, meting out justice. At evening he’s still at it, strong as ever."

—Zephaniah 3:5

...It is good to know, as the Word promises, that God is with us. Better still to realize that He's even more than that. That when the world is in turmoil, when our day, our week, our life gets nuts, when some things just don’t make sense, and even during a restless night sleep filled with crazy dreams because your day was on overload, God is not just "with us" out there somewhere or observing from the grandstand of Heaven.

He is "still at it, strong as ever," actively, mightily, lovingly "with us" in the midst of it all.

"Having the reality of God's presence is not dependent on our being in a particular circumstance or place, but is only dependent on our determination to keep the Lord before us continually."—Oswald Chambers

Where Thankfulness Wins

"In some of the best worship songs, we bring our praises to God yet at the same time also end up preaching to ourselves." - Matt Redman

Sometimes, for no reason at all, you “wake up on the wrong side of the bed.”

You can drag that sorry self throughout your day,

Or you can grab your coffee and do something outrageous, something out of the box:

Not read your daily devotional first.

Not try to dig into the Word first when your mind is off-kilter.

Definitely not scroll your social media and news headlines first.

But first, awaken the dawn.

Put on the tunes and sing.

Put the “wrong side of the bed” in its rightful place.

Whatever is True and Love and full of Hope, sing it like you don’t care if anyone is listening.

Because the best Sunday morning vitamin, or for any other day of the week

Is not always the one that is written

But the one that is first played or cranked up and sung.

Thankfulness wins every time...

“My heart is committed, O God:

    I will sing;

I will sing praises with great affection

    and pledge my whole soul to the singing.

Wake up the harp and lyre, and strum the strings;

    I will stir the sleepy dawn from slumber!

I will stand and offer You my thanks, Eternal One, in the presence of others;

    I will sing of Your greatness among the nations no matter where I am.

For Your amazing love soars overhead far into the heavens;

    Your truth rises up to the clouds

    where passing light bends.

O God, that You would be lifted up above the heavens in the hearts of Your people

    until the whole earth knows Your glory.”—Psalm 108:1-5, The Voice

Living the Psalms

"But as for me, I will wait and hope continually, and will praise You yet more and more." (Psalm 71:14, Amplified)

C.S. Lewis once said, “The most valuable thing the Psalms do for me is to express the same delight in God which made David dance.”

And that is true.

Until you don’t feel like dancing, so then what?

The most valuable thing the Psalms do for me is to remember that it is OK and a good thing to be real before God, even when you don’t feel like dancing.

Down through the ages, the psalmists testify:

Real worship is not turning a blind eye to reality.

It is not dancing or singing or clapping based on “feeling it” or Sunday morning routine.

Because people can be mean. Life can be hard. Injustice can seem to be winning at every corner.

But as with the psalmists, for every:

“Why me?”

“This isn’t fair.”

“I’ve been following You and now this happens?”
“What they’re saying isn’t true, not even close.”

“They say one thing but do another—don’t You see that!?”

“I’m dying here, where are You?”

…Real worship is when Light suddenly breaks through the darkness.

And you follow it.

God never gets into a Q&A.

Over and over again, He simply, lovingly stirs within a reminder of what and Who is True and what truly matters:

“But I will keep hope alive,

    and my praise to You will grow exponentially.

I will bear witness to Your merciful acts;

    throughout the day I will speak of all the ways You deliver,

    although, I admit, I do not know the entirety of either.

I will come with stories of Your great acts, my Lord, the Eternal.

    I will remind them of Your justice, only Yours.

You have taught me since I was young, O God,

    and I still proclaim the wonderful things You have done.”

—Psalm 71:14-17, The Voice

Real worship, the psalmists remind us, is acknowledging the roar but then running to the Rock of refuge.

It is dancing on injustice.

It is shouting “Faithful and True!”

It is clapping with Heaven’s rhythm to break dark things that need to be broken.

It is singing “I am a child of God” and knowing that the battle is always the Lord’s...

…Real worship is when Light suddenly breaks through the darkness. And you follow it. Even today.

Pick Up Your Tent

Photo: Cliford Mervil

“Now Moses used to take his own tent and pitch it outside the camp, far away from the camp, and he called it the tent of meeting—of God with His own people…And so the Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, just as a man speaks to his friend. When Moses returned to the camp, his attendant Joshua, the son of Nun, a young man, would not depart from the tent.”—Exodus 33: 7,11, Amplified

Sometimes, God can “show up” to us in the “tent” of church in a powerful, meaningful and intimate way, and though we’d rather stay, the “camp” of the world beckons. It would be great to be Joshua—to never have to be in a rush to leave the goodness of God’s presence. But for every Sunday when life’s demands—a job, a family reunion, the yard work that didn’t get done on Saturday because of the rain—require you and I to scoot out the door of the “tent” of church and back to the “camp” of this world to face them, there is good news in this passage.

That’s what happened with Moses. But being in the tent wasn’t a thing to check off his list. Even though he couldn’t stay, it was still his fuel for life. And the takeaway for us when life gets nuts and we have to scoot out the door of the tent is to remember and take to heart what Moses says a few verses later:

“If Your presence does not go with us,

do not send us up from here.”

It is good to remember that God’s presence is not trapped in tents or buildings. And on those Sundays when we reluctantly have to scoot, and even when we don’t, we can always take the songs, the prayers, the Word, the holy stillness and the holy roar of the tent—take them all with us into the craziness.

His Name is “God with us,” and God is and wants to be with us just as powerfully in the camp of life as He is in the tent of meeting.

Some things we can’t be reminded of enough.

“If we are to be effective in anything we do for the Lord, the Lord must be in the midst of it. Unless the Lord’s power is seen among us, we will be just another person who has religion. Unless we manifest His life to others, they will see only good behavior that is easily counterfeited by moral people.”—Os Hillman

Becoming What You Think

“You’ll always travel in the direction of your thinking.”—T.D. Jakes

The psalmist asks, “Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence?” Friday night, the surprising answer was, “I go with you everywhere, even to the football game, in ways that will surprise you…”

…Standing at the fence and watching the action on the field, my friend, who I often saw at breakfast downtown on Saturday mornings, asked if I was going there Sunday morning. I told him that by the time I got out of church, they would probably be closed. “Well I go there very early, when they open, before I go to church,” he replied. Suddenly, what was happening on the field went into the background—we had never had this type of conversation before. “I go to the early service because I have people to see.” Not his family or friends, but shut-ins. Every Sunday, for the past several years, my friend has shared communion with elderly saints who cannot get to church or who are all alone. Often, he discovers by the saint’s nonstop, one-way animated conversation that he was probably their first visitor of the week. “It’s incredibly rewarding, and I feel like I’m making a difference in some small way. Sometimes, those with Alzheimers don’t remember what the elements are for, but I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

And Jesus at the football game reminded me:

Better to be the Church than just go to church.

…The final five minutes of the game were so intense, the usual away-from-the-field activities of kids running around, playing soccer or football or tag, and of older folks socializing and talking about things other than football, momentarily froze. As I turned around and looked, “uh-oh” seemed to be everyone’s expression. The home team’s seemingly safe lead was suddenly in jeopardy, and the visitors were within striking distance of the go-ahead score. One final shot with less than 10 seconds to go: A pass into the end zone, up for grabs…intercepted by the good guys. The “enemy” had been defeated, and there was joy all around. But the real story was what happened the next morning. As I passed the football field on my way to the recycling center, I let out an audible, “Wow.” Members of the same team that had been victorious 12 hours earlier were not in bed savoring the moment but were back out on the field working on improving their game. A young team in a rebuilding program was thinking like winners.

And Jesus at and after the football game reminded me:

Rejoice in your victories but never become complacent, satisfied, or go on cruise control. Press on to know Him more.

Excellence in serving the saints and those in need and in persevering on the Journey requires many things, but it begins with the right attitude and saturating your mind into overflow mode by thinking the right thoughts:

“Finally, believers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable and worthy of respect, whatever is right and confirmed by God’s word, whatever is pure and wholesome, whatever is lovely and brings peace, whatever is admirable and of good repute; if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think continually on these things—center your mind on them, and implant them in your heart.”—Philippians 4:7-9, Amplified

“You become what you think about all day long.”—Ralph Waldo Emerson

Deeper Still

Photo credit: Lucas Allman

“I know there is no turning back

Once my feet have left the ledge

And in the rush I hear a voice

That's telling me to take a leap of faith

So here I go

I'm diving in, I'm going deep, in over my head I want to be

Caught in the rush, lost in the flow, in over my head I want to go…”

—The Dive, Steven Curtis Chapman

I had never felt so paralyzed with fear of the unknown. I was at the edge of the deep end of the town pool, staring toward the ladder at the 4' section some 25 yards away. It might as well have been 25 miles. So long as I could touch bottom and have some control, hey, I was fine. But at 8 years old, the right-of-passage from beginner to intermediate (and remaining cool with your friends) meant diving into water wayyyyyy over your head and swimming to that ladder.

"I cannot do this....I have got to do this." Waffle, waffle, waffle.

I must have stood at the edge...ready to jump, afraid to jump, ready...for at least 15 minutes. It felt like forever. And I might still be there had it not been for my swim instructor. He did not ridicule, he did not yell. Quietly, over and over, he said:

"C'mon, you can do this—I'm right here."

And he waited, and waited, and waited without once getting impatient. Suddenly...I don't know what sent me over the edge, but the next thing I knew, I was mid-air between the cement deck and the icy, scary, deep water. Out of control, but oddly, totally at peace. The most shocking thing was not the ice-cold temperature of the water when I landed, but that I realized I was not sinking but going forward, one arm stroke and leg kick at a time. And when I arrived at that ladder, I laughed like a cool 8-year-old is supposed to: "That was awesome!" My swim instructor just nodded and smiled...

On this faith journey, it's funny how at the start of every new day you can keep running into that kid: Will I dive in to the glorious unknown and heed the call once more to “follow Me” or play it safe and stand at the edge? The kid is seen in decisions to be made during the day, the temptation to compromise in some way, the attitudes without words but that speak volumes as well as the words that come out of your mouth, the opportunities to be generous with kindness to others and in spending of free moments and money.

The flesh almost always prefers the safety and comfort of the edge of the pool where it is easy to touch and understand (and control) rather than to boldly dive deeper still into the depths of trust-and-obey-for-there's-no-other-way. Which might be one big reason why we are exhorted to "fight the good fight of faith" every single day.

And this week, some reinforcing words from a good book...

…“Most of us will only follow Christ to the point of precedence—the place where we have been before. But no further. We’re afraid of doing what we’ve never done because it’s unfamiliar territory. So we leave unclaimed the new gifts, new anointing, and new dreams that God wants to give us. If you want God to do something new, you cannot keep doing what you’ve always done. You’ve got to push past the fear of the unknown. You’ve got to do something different.
We need to step into the conflict without knowing if we can resolve it.
We need to share our faith without knowing how our friends will react to it.
We need to pray for a miracle without knowing how God will answer.
We need to put ourselves in a situation that activates a spiritual gift we’ve never exercised before.
And we need to go after a dream that is destined to fail without Divine intervention.
We want a money-back guarantee before we take a step of obedience, but that eliminates faith from the equation. Sometimes, we need to take a flying leap of faith.” 

—Mark Batterson, from “All In"

It matters not whether you are young or old, or how many miles you've walked on the Journey. The kid on the edge of the pool is relentless. What matters is getting into the daily habit of heeding the encouraging voice of the greatest Guide of all: "C'mon, you can do this—I'm right here," because:

“I have come in order that you might have life—life in all its fullness.”—John 10:10, Good News Translation

An Unlikely Moment of Worship

“The earth is the LORD’s, and everything in it.”—Psalm 24:1

Every month is special in God’s eyes. Some may seem better to us than others, and in New England, August is right up there.

• It’s a month of heaven all around—warm evenings with nature’s symphony playing in the background.
• It’s a fruitful month, when the harvest and berries and apples begin to appear in abundance.
• It’s a time to remember that just as with the start of another year of school, there can be goodness in routine and sticking with it.
• It’s a month of hot and humid days followed by crisp days and cool nights that remind us that we live in the now and not yet of Eternity, and to look forward each day to both.
• A month, like every month, to celebrate life—but especially one in which both children were born and when beloved parents married. 

To everything there is a season, and this one, this treasure called August, is especially sweet. And with early morning coffee in the Adirondack out back, it’s a realization that it is also something more:

A reminder, in the stillness without a breath of wind, with hints of yellow showing up here and there, of how much I love the majesty of the trees in my back yard and the endless beauty of living here in New England. That no matter where any of us live, God has ordained that we have been born for such a time and led to such a place as ours, and it is good, and none of it should be taken for granted... 

This is not meant to be political at all, but while staring up into the heights of the forest and being grateful for August and praising Him who made it all, it was a reminder that while I am neither what some would call a "tree hugger" nor an extreme climate change guy, the older I get, the more I am aware of the importance of being a practical, good steward of God's good earth… 

“Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for Him…” —Romans 12:1, Message

…Everyday, ordinary things like walking more instead of driving everywhere, picking up trash along the road, eating more organics, even using plant-based cleaning products instead of pouring who knows what down the drain. And whenever possible, purchasing items in more easily recyclable glass or aluminum rather than plastic—especially the kind that many recycling centers will no longer accept.

But what difference does any of that make, and what does that have to do with worship, anyway? Perhaps just the reminder that my backyard, and August, and the endless beauty around me is God's, on loan and to be thoroughly enjoyed, and that every little thing anyone does to steward all of that matters. To Him.

And that’s worship that sings from the inside out.

“It is God's world still. It has been given to man not absolutely, but in trust, that man may work out in it the will of God; given, may we not say, just as a father gives a child a corner of his great garden, and says, ‘There, that is yours; now cultivate it.’”—Philipps Brooks